


In the Hearts of Kings

by ladyofshalott77



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 16:10:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2738723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofshalott77/pseuds/ladyofshalott77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A colleague reminds Snape about why he chose to stay on the side of the light. One shot for Promptmeshakespeare's Bardolators' Advent Event (mulled wine prompt)</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Hearts of Kings

**_Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy-Matthew 5:7_ **

Another day at 12 Grimmauld Place, another bitter altercation with that hateful dog over nothing and everything. 

Snape stormed out of the wretched Black residence, with Walburga Black’s portrait customarily screaming abuse from behind. Before the front door could close, Snape waved his wand without thinking twice: “Silencio!” 

It usually would not have worked on that painted toad at all, but given the degree of Snape’s fury, the hag was suddenly all quiet. He never admitted it to himself, and those around him would never say it out loud, but Snape was universally recognized as the most powerful wizard alive on the side of the light, Dumbledore’s equal, if not more agile and calculating. 

It won’t last long, Snape thought to himself darkly, but at least this may teach her not to annoy him further at a wrong time. 

“Apparate!” His cloak billowing, Snape was soon back on the Hogwarts ground after a short walk from the apparition point in no time. The best way to mitigate his cankerous mood is to wait it out, alone, in his isolated quarters in the dungeon. 

He was trying to take the short cut before being stopped by Flitwick on his way down.

There is really no rest for the wicked, Snape grimaced.

“Severus, a word, I am wondering whether you could …”The bespectacled wizard began talking without really looking for his former pupil turned colleague. 

Students might have thought Snape to be an unhappy, cranky man who resented to speak to anyone at all, but the truth was that the brooding Potions Master was highly sought after by the intellectual type in the wizarding world for his extensive knowledge in his subject matter, and he also welcomed exchanges with these individuals who he reckoned to offer invaluable insight in return. Flitwick was one of his favorite conversing partners in fact _ they were similarly zealous about advancing their own subjects and expertise. With charms and potions being closely related fields, collaboration with each other was the best and fastest way to drive progress. Both men, sharped-minded as they were, had recognized the importance and benefits of joining forces and reached a mutual understanding in a muted manner. 

The older wizard quickly sensed aggravation in the air, and finally raised his head to look at the Slytherin. 

Snape was still in too foul a mood to school his expressions into his usual mask of contempt and sneering – ironically it was actually a sign of how he felt secure enough inside Hogwarts, among a select few trusted fellow teachers, to leave his emotions sometimes unguarded. 

Though Flitwick was never really a key member of the Order and could sometimes appear too aloof, a tendency common among Ravenclaws, deep down Snape still held his former professor in high regard due to the his superior ntelligence and uncanny ability to make astute deductions. 

“You and Sirius got into a quarrel over nothing again,” Flitwick said flatly. 

“That hideous dog provoked me first,” Snape tried an even tone, but what came out of his mouth made him feel he was again 14, every inch the boy that was deserted by his negligent teachers, and bullied mercilessly by the Gryffindors. 

Flitwick sighed. 

Somehow for reasons Snape could not understand, that vague, miserable feeling that he had failed the professors’ expectations as a schoolboy resurfaced, much to his own dismay. 

“Why do you all always take Sirius’s side?” Snape snapped. A second later, the younger wizard was horrified – he sounded exactly like a petulant 14-year-old. 

In a split second, when Snape was yet to recover, the impeccably dressed half-goblin gently nudged the younger wizard into an empty room next to the opening of the shortcut passage that the Slytherin originally wanted to take to return to the dungeon. 

The Ravenclaw locked the door with a discreet wave of his wand, and turned to look his grumpy colleague. The room was empty except for a warm fire indispensable in the dead of Scottish winter, 

The older wizard sighed again. Snape glared at his former professor, but he was not prepared for what he heard next. 

“Severus, I am extremely sorry for the wrongs I have done you, for not stopping the Marauders from doing what they did to you when I was teaching you. I wasn’t paying enough attention as I was too caught up in my own research and attempts to manage my own house as a junior staff member, but I had a vague sense that something was not quite right between you, and I should have dug deeper,” Flitwick said, looking levelly into Snape’s eyes. 

By now Snape had masked his face back into blank and not shown any reaction to Flitwick’s unqualified apology. 

Undaunted, the Ravenclaw continued.

“But now we are all entrusting our lives into your hands, including Sirius. You are our first line of defense, and you’re our last line of defense. The half-blood prince has become our rightful king,” Flitwick said solemnly. 

“If you want your revenge on any of us, you could easily give us away to you-know-who and the death eaters. We are at your mercy. The relevant question is not why the Order or Albus is not serving Sirius justice you think he deserves, but why you are not putting his head on a silver platter for the dark lord.”

Snape was stunned, although he made sure no emotions showed on his face. Both men knew the answer to that query, but they were both silent for a few moments. 

Seeing that Snape had no intention to respond, but neither try to withdraw from the one-sided conversation, Flitwick went on. 

“Albus never promised you happily ever after when you chose to return to us. The best he could offer was many shades of grey, with a faint possibility to find a feeble flicker of light at the end of this dark, treacherous tunnel we are trudging through.”

Snape regarded his colleague coolly, still saying nothing. 

“In the course of justice, none of us  
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;  
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render  
The deeds of mercy.”

The familiar quotes startled Snape – he was aware of the possibility that Flitwick, like himself, had a weak spot for all things Muggle, but he was not aware of the degree of the charms professor’s interest in Muggle literature. 

“I cannot guarantee things will get better, but you have to forgive the Marauders so you can forgive yourself over what happened to the young lady you loved. Your own salvation has to come from yourself first.” 

By this point Snape was too shocked and weary to ask how Flitwick knew about Lily. Instead, he tried to divert with the most harmless question. 

“How did you come to know Shakespeare?”

“My child, the wizarding world has made too little effort to understand anything outside their own little circle, be it Muggles or goblins. That’s part of the reason why this impending war is coming about,” Flitwick said, gloom overshadowing his face. 

“The goblins handle the finances of wizards and naturally we are given more opportunities to interact with Muggles, especially those in the financial sector, to help safeguard our economy. We have so much more access and much better understanding of the Muggle culture. All goblin parents would always get their children to read the Merchant of Venice, to learn how to cope with our own predicaments. 

The half-goblin paused for a second, appearing to have become burdened with the troubled past of his tribe. But soon he regained his composure. 

“And Shakespeare’s language really appealed to me as a child, so I went on to read all things Shakespeare,” the charms professor chuckled. 

By this point all anger within Snape had evaporated. He was still not ready to let his grudge go, but deep inside he knew Flitwick had a point. And he realized the last thing he needed now was to be fuming on his own. 

“Filius, would you mind joining me in my quarters for some seasonal festivity maybe?”

“It is near Christmas eh?” There was a glint in the eyes behind the rounded spectacles. 

Snape always secretly asked the house elves to ready some mulled wine during this season, as a reminder of the generosity and pity Lily’s mother had shown him by including him in the Evans’ celebrations. 

The former professor and student, now equals, toasted each other quietly, and drank silently in front of the comforting fire the house elves have started inside Snape’s quarters. 

And it turned into a pleasant evening of exchanges between enlightened souls, in pursuit of a deeper understanding of the quality of mercy.


End file.
